Enigma
by Welcome2MyWorldxoxo
Summary: Entry for Twifics Superhero contest. I'm just an enigma; something that baffles understanding and cannot be explained. An entity; something that has a distinct, separate existence, though it need not be a material existence. One of nature's secrets.


**AN: I originally wrote a one shot for this contest a month ago, but it didn't work out and I had this idea so I wrote it down. Thank you to TeamProject Beta who found me two best beta's-kaydee1005and SueBob – who pulled my ass out of the dump and managed to make this actualy presentable.**

ENTRY FOR THE SUPERHERO CONTEST

**Story Name: Enigma**

**Penname: Welcome2MyWorldxoxo**

**Rating: Mature**

**Pairing: Edward & Bella**

**Word Count: 4,674**

**To see other entries in the Twilight/Superhero Contest, please visit the following C2:**

**www. fanfiction .net/community/Superhero_Contest/81828/**

People ask me what it's like being me. How do I cope with it all? Why do I do it? What motivates me to risk my life everyday for people who probably won't give a damn in a weeks time? Don't I just want to be normal?

What people don't understand is that being a superhero isn't a job.

It's a life.

You give up everything for it.

I had a family, friends, even pets. Now I have nothing.

Every night I close my eyes and see the fires, the blood and the cold, vacant eyes of the dead that I failed to save. The screams emanate from my ears, ringing, haunting me, but yet I still find sleep.

I sleep because I have to function. If I didn't, the screams will grow louder, and my concentration will grow weaker. More people will die; more crooks will go free without justice to hold them back.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and run a hand through my hair.

I feel exhausted, but I don't want to sleep yet.

I pull the collar of my coat higher around my ears and duck my head further down into it while stuffing my hands deep into my pockets, not wanting them to freeze in the December air.

I slip into the 'run down' bar that I generally frequent when I don't feel like sleeping.

No one is ever here in the bar when I come. It's too late an hour for drinking outside of the home for most, but it is always open anyway.

I'm not the only one of my kind in the city.

There are in fact a few of us here. Some use their God-given powers, and some don't. Some live double lives, pretending that they are normal during the day and donning the mask at night when they can't be seen.

They are a liability to our kind.

There are others like me who don't have an identity.

We are called the spirits of the city. If you find one of us in the morgue, no amount of research will be able to help you find our identity.

No fingerprints will be found on the body.

No DNA.

No blood.

Nothing

It's how it is.

And we like it that way.

Of course we have names- personal names- never our real names. They are ones that we choose, but not many people know them.

I sit at the bar and I see a hand push a quarter of a glass full of scotch in front of me and I grunt in thanks..

The bartender is used to my ways.

I only speak when necessary.

There are too many people out there that waste the air with talking, and I try to even that out ever so slightly. I wrap my fingers around the cool glass and look down at the amber liquid that I know will leave a fire in my throat.

I sigh and bring it to my lips, swallowing it all at once. My brain clouds and my throat burns, and I relish in it.

A second later I'm back to my old self again. I wonder if I should go home and crawl into my bed, my rumpled sheets pulled up to my chin and my mind empty, thinking of nothing. Just stillness, peace, and quiet.

I won't dream.

I don't need to.

Dreams would complicate my life.

They would remind me of my family, my friends, and my pets, and I don't need that. I just need the stillness sleep gives me. The bartender coughs loudly, and I look up at him.

He's a big man, nearly seven foot with wide shoulders and muscular arms covered in tattoos.

His brown, curly hair is pulled back into a ponytail.

I notice that tonight there is a light in his eyes that I hadn't seen in them before, and I wonder what has made him happy.

His moustache moves upwards as a small smile creeps up his lips. He has a faraway look in his eyes and I nearly smile.

That is a look of a man in love.

I silently congratulate him on finding a woman to love, and I hope she loves him back because everyone deserves happiness...well almost everyone does. He looks over at me and smiles.

He is a quiet man much like me, but I can tell he's bursting at the seams so I raise my eyebrow in question waiting for him to speak.

"I found her," he says dreamily, and I nod in understanding.

Love softens the hardest man.

"Her name's Sue. She's beautiful, but really down to earth. She's a good cook and as tough as nails. She has the most beautiful hunter's knife imaginable."

My lip twitches. He has obviously found his other half.

"I'm happy for you," I murmur quietly, just loud enough for him to hear ,and he nods.

"Thank you"

He clears his throat telling me silently that heart-to-heart time is over and goes back to cleaning the glasses behind the bar.

I look at my glass, and it's clear. No fingerprints mar the clear glass. No smudges mark the place where my lips where on the rim. As I said, I'm a spirit.

I leave no tracks, and not even the most skilled of our kind-ones dedicated to finding people or us- can find me.

Sometimes I don't even believe I'm still alive, but I am. I'm just an enigma; something that baffles understanding and cannot be explained. An entity; something that has a distinct, separate existence, though it need not be a material existence.

One of nature's secrets.

I stand wearily and place a twenty on the counter. I nod my head, and he does the same before I disappear out of the bar and back into the cold, night air. The whoosh of the wind sounds deafening in my ears, but I ignore it. I am used to it.

The streets are silent as I walk; my steps silent even to my own ears.

Then I hear it.

A small intake of breath. A thudding of a heart. The shifting of a pair of feet.

I turn the corner and see her. She is obviously freezing, standing there in only a mini skirt, a tank top, and a leather jacket. A cigarette hangs from her dark, ruby red lips, and she is wearing a heavy silver chains around her neck that matches the earrings in her ears.

She spots me and smiles.

"Hello," she calls, her eyes dancing in mischief. Her brown locks of hair are pulled back into a ponytail, and her makeup is light, yet heavy at the same time. She wears it as armour but doesn't hide behind it.

I cock my head to the side and stop. She takes it as encouragement and walks over to me in her death traps of five inch heels. She smiles up at me, as I am a good foot taller than her even with the heels.

"Aren't you cold?" I ask quietly.

Her grin widens and she stubs out her cigarette.

"Bloody frozen," she answers but does not seem fazed by this fact. I frown; she is a strange creature.

I start walking again, and she keeps up with me. "So, what's your name?" she presses. My lip twitches on one side and I look at her,"It depends, what's yours?"

She shrugs, "Bella."

I nod.

"I don't have a name," I say, answering her question.

She just shrugs again, unfazed by the fact that I have no name. "Okay then. I'll call you..." She looks me up and down for a second, obviously searching for something." Edward."

I raise my eyebrows," Why Edward?"

She smiles like she has a small secret hidden just behind her lips. "Because it's a charming and brooding name. You look like the kind of guy who fits both categories." She peers at me for second before adding," At least the last part anyway."

I stop again and look at my scuffed shoes before turning to her, "I'm not who you think I am," I say bluntly.

Her smile turns into a smirk, "You are exactly who I think you are, Edward."

I sigh, getting frustrated, "I doubt it."

She shakes her head, an amused expression on her face. "So you're not a spirit?"

Shock emanates through my system, but years of practice leaves my face unchanged.

"What?" I answer.

She chuckles, "You're not the first I've seen. You are all the same. Jaded and lonely."

I frown, leaving my mask of indifference behind me. "How do you know?"

She taps her head. "I can hear your thoughts."

I fall silent. I can tell for a fact that she isn't one of our kind and wait for her to answer my unanswered question. If she can do what she says she can, then she will answer.

She grins, "Oh ye of little faith, of course I can hear you, and I am only half like you. My mother was a prostitute, and she came upon one of your kind. Let's just say that the rest is history. She used me as a kid for money and such, but I didn't mind. She's dead now."

I nod, not quite taking in what she is telling me. A question bubbles in my mouth and I wonder if I should bother speaking it.

She shrugs, "You can if you want, but as you're a man of as few words as possible, I wouldn't bother. To answer the question, I'm not following you. I'm leading you." She stops in front of a bright red door and says, "Alice is waiting." She disappears inside the dark hallway, and for some reason I follow.

She opens a door and inside is an equally dark room. She switches the light on ,and I see a girl sitting at a desk with her propped up, her spiky heels on her feet leading up her fishnet tights.

"About time you guys showed up" she grumbles, her purple lips turned down slightly. Her black, spiky hair falls into her eyes, and she pushes it away carelessly. Bella sits down in a plush chair, and I stay standing in the doorway cautiously.

"Calm down, Edward. She doesn't bite...hard."

The small girl, who I'm thinking is most likely Alice, grins. "You named him? How sweet."

She talks about me like I'm a stray puppy, but I ignore it. I have more important things to worry about.

"Why am I here?"

The girl, Alice, pulls a file out of nowhere and slides it across the desk.

" I need to find a spirit. He's southern."

I stretch out my hand towards the file and the file shudders before lifting up and coming towards till it rests in my hand like an invisible cord are connecting us.

I open the file and see a man.

Light blues. Blond, sandy hair. Dark face.

I look up.

"I know him, but why do you want him?"

Alice smiles, showing a pair of white pearly teeth.

"He's my destiny."

I raise my eyebrows condescendingly. She's obviously a quack.

Bella laughs, most probably at my thoughts, and Alice frowns. "What's so funny?"

Bella waves her off. "Just his thoughts."

I look at Alice. "Try the Bay Bridge." That is all I have to say. No more, no less. As I said. I am a man of few words.

"Thanks," She beams. "I'll let you two go. Don't have too much fun."

She winks.

I frown.

Bella blushes.

Bella stands up and grabs my hand, not looking me in the eye. "Come with me" she says.

I look down at our hands. Hers are small and soft and warm. Mine are large and rough and cold. She doesn't seem to mind the complete contrast.

She tugs my hand and I follow her down the dark hall. Instead of going back the way we came, she goes the opposite way. I briefly wonder where she is taking me, but I cannot muster the thought or energy to bother figuring it out.

Suddenly a door opens, and a woman comes out closely followed by a spirit.

Her hair is pale blonde, almost white, and her lipstick is blue.

She runs a finger down his chest, and I see a faint trail of ice in its wake.

Once they pass, Bella speaks. "That's Rosalie. Ice queen...or Ice bitch depending on how she treats you."

She pushes past a red velvet curtain and opens a door to a room. Once we are inside, she closes it behind me and pushes me up against it.

"Tell me Edward. What do you want?"

I stare at her blankly, taking in her elevated heartbeat.

The pheromones coming off her skin are tinged.

She wants me.

I frown confused, "I do not understand the question."

She cups my face in between her hands, "I know you, Edward. Maybe even better than you know yourself. You gave everything up for others who don't even know it. So I'm asking, what do you want?"

I stare at her, and she stares back, sincerity written in every crease of her frown.

I shake my head.

I want to say 'you', but I know I can't.

I try and move backwards out of her grip, but my back is already flat against the door.

I close my eyes and bask in the moment, just for a second. The way her hands feel against my skin. The way her body smells of smoke, spices, and flowers. I open them again.

"I can't," I say quietly.

She closes her eyes for a second before looking back at me." You can't or you won't?"

I frown, "They are the same to me."

She shakes her head. "No, they are not. I can see you, Edward. Every little detail that goes through your mind. You can't be with me because you choose not to be, and you choose not to because you think you'll become a liability to your kind."

I grind my teeth together. I don't like this. She sees too much."Get out of my head," I hiss.

She shakes her head. "I can't."

I see tears well up in her eyes and something inside tugs at me. Something that I hadn't felt in a long time.

She caresses my cheek.

"I want to see all of you," she whispers.

I let my head fall down. "I can't be what you want me to be," I murmur.

Her hands slide to my head, and she closes her eyes. Suddenly it's like I've been transported back in time. I can see my whole life.

I can see all the colors.

The laughter.

The happiness.

Then I hear the screams. I see the blood. Everything fades and it's black. Then I wake up and the world has lost its color.

There is no happiness.

No laughter.

Just me.

I see my family, but I don't go near them. I can't now. I am no longer me. I am something else. Anger bubbles inside me and windows smash, car alarms blare. I stop. What has happened to me? My eyes flash open and I gasp, taking in heavy pants of breath.

Before I can react to what she did to me, to tell her never to touch me again, she presses her lips to mine and winds her fingers into my hair and I wonder why I want her not to touch me.

I clench my fists tightly, trying to rein in some of my waning control.

Every atom in my body is fighting against me, screaming at me not to push her away, but it's in my nature to do so, and I don't know if I can resist.

"Just let go," she murmurs like it's the easiest thing for me to do.

I close my eyes and dig down deep trying to find what's holding me back.

It's the part of my brain that I've been using for so long that I'm unsure of how to shut it up or why I want to shut it up.

I find a small corner in my brain where a slight light glimmers.I swallow and let it out. And that is it. Light floods me ,and I know what I want, what I need, and I'm not going to deny myself any longer.

I mold my lips back against hers desperately and run a hand through her hair, threading it through her silken locks.

She gasps and her breath swirls around my face, drowning me in her scent.

Her heart is beating so furiously against her chest that I am slightly worried.

She smashes her lips back against mine with renewed vigour, winding her small hands deeper into my hair.

Kissing her, molding my lips against her intimately in a way- I embarrassingly admit- I have never done before, is like being dragged into a burning furnace of heat and want.

I don't know what I'm doing, and I simply don't care. I want to stand here drinking in her taste and her smell forever.

I am suddenly afraid of hurting her. I have never done this before and am afraid I may use too much force

She pulls back for air and moves her kisses to my jaw leaving a fierytrail in her wake.

"You won't hurt me. My skin is almost as durable as yours."

She unwinds her hands and takes a step back. Before I can ask what she's doing ,she shrugs out of her jacket and pulls her white tank top over her head.

She isn't wearing a bra.

I swallow audibly, and she moves forward unbuttoning my coat.

I am powerless to stop her.

I don't want to stop her.

She pushes the layers away from my skin until my top is as bare as hers.

Her small hands descend upon my chest, running them up and down before she leans up and sucks and licks my throat.

I gasp at the feeling of her tongue. It is slightly rough against me, but feels like hot, wet velvet at the same time.

She moves her scorching mouth to my chest where my heart should be beating.

"Just relax," she breathes, letting her hands continue tracing the contours of my chest.

I let out a shuddering breath and decide to just feel.

The sensation of her hands on my body is glorious. My muscles contract and shift as she explores me.

She brings her mouth back up to mine.

"Touch me," she begs.

My breath comes out unevenly as I speak. "I want to see you first."

She steps back and pushes her skirt and panties down so that all she's wearing are her heels and jewelry.

She takes my hands and pulls me over to a bed in the corner of the room that I hadn't noticed.

She closes her eyes and falls back onto it, leaving herself completely exposed to my eyes.

A small smile curves on her lips as I drag my eyes over her body. Her breasts are small. The perfect handful.

The nipples are like perfect raindrops-the color of coral.

Her stomach is toned and smooth.

Her curls between her legs are trimmed and reveal the wetness that coats her.

But this is not what captures my attention. What captures my attention is the tattoo that runs across her body.. Vines curve under her breasts and lead down her stomach, spreading to her hips and wrapping around her thighs.

I move until I'm in between her thighs and trace the path of it.

Her skin is hot and I move forward so that I am hovering over her.

I let my lips drag along her collarbone while I let my hands wander.

My hands slide up her waist and cup her breasts lightly in my hands.

I run a finger around her areola watching in rapture as her nipple puckers and tightens under my ministrations.

I move my head down and flick my tongue over it before taking it fully into my mouth.

I roll her nipple around my tongue and she gasps, her back arching closer to my mouth, her hands wrapping firmly in my hair.

I lick and suck her breast and scrape my teeth over it lightly, teasing her. She moans and forces my head even closer to her. I bite down gently then apply more pressure, causing her to writhe and whimper under me.

I can feel myself throbbing in my pants and unfamiliar feelings go through me as Bella grinds against me.

Fire.

Want.

Heat.

Electricity.

Friction.

My skin prickles, and I can feel every drop of sweat falling down my skin.

It feels like my senses have been doubled and I'm hyperaware of everything.

It's like every single little detail on her body and in the room has been pixilated and zoomed in on.

She pulls my head up and smashes her mouth against mine.

Tongues dance.

Muscles contract.

Heat coarses.

She pushes me backward and deftly works me out of my remaining clothes.

I have never been naked with a woman before and I knew I should be nervous, but with Bella everything feels natural.

She leans down over me and stares me in the eye waiting for something.

Her eyes probe and search mine before she positions herself above me.

She leans down until our foreheads are touching and smiles.

I briefly wonder why she smiles, but suddenly I'm enveloped in the heat, the wetness, and the extreme tightness of her sex, and it's nearly unbearable like an inferno.

Why did I fight against this?

I can't even remember my argument against doing this.

We fit so perfectly together.

She stops when she has taken all of me inside of her.

Her eyes flutter closed, sending little shadows across her cheeks.

I groan and she whimpers.

She moves and I feel myself moving with her.

Our gazes don't leave each other.

Our breaths come out tandem and every inch if us is pressed together.

She shifts, lifting herself up slowly and dropping back down.

Her muscles flutter around me, clutching me in a vice grip, and the need to go faster and harder is starting to overwhelm me.

I have never done any of this before and I'm not sure how it works, but I am eager to see.

She furrows her brow in concentration and rocks her hips forwards against mine.

I groan and run my hands up her thighs to her hips. Her skin is soft and warm under my hands, and I push my hips up going deeper inside of her than before. She gasps and starts rocking in a rhythm going faster, harder.

Sweat pours down my body, and I can smell the salt of it on my skin.

I can feel the room spinning around me, and I close my eyes to try to center myself.

Her tight, wet, heat squeezes me like a snake constricts around its prey.

Her body shudders and convulses above me.

" Oh god, Edward..." she whimpers.

I can feel the tightening in my stomach start to reach its peak, and I tighten my grip on her hips slightly and throw my head back in pleasure.

Sparks shoot across my vision, blinding me.

Our bodies shudder and convulse against each other, and I feel like a cord inside me has snapped and I sink back down.

My eyes are closed and I'm not sure I want to open them. It feels just so right lying here with her breath fanning out across my chest.

I feel the pads of her fingers drag across my cheek, and I open my eyes.

I look up at her and silently convey with my eyes my thanks.

She has shown me more than I could have ever dreamed of.

She has taken me to the heights of heaven, far higher than I can even imagine.

"Thank you," I murmur.

She burrows her head into my neck and wraps her arms around me.

I feel more relaxed than I have ever been that I let myself remember.

Her lips curve up against my neck and she whispers, "I have set you free."

I sigh and just lie there thinking about what has just happened.

Bella's breathing starts to even and she whispers, "Stay with me."

I will.

I don't know why I will.

I don't care why I will.

I can't explain it and I won't explain why.

I just will.

**AN: There we have it. This was one of the hardest stories ever to write so review and don't forget to vote.**


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